Lady and the Pirate Being the Plain Tale of a Diligent Pirate and a Fair Captive

Emerson Hough

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pubOne.info thank you for your continued support and wish to present you this new edition. I was sitting at one of my favorite spots engaged in looking through my fly-book for some lure that might, perhaps, mend my luck in the afternoon's fishing. At least, I had within the moment been so engaged; although the truth is that the evening was so exceptionally fine, and the spot always so extraordinarily attractive to me - this particular angle of the stream, where the tall birches stand, being to my mind the most beautiful bit on my whole estate - that I had forgotten all about angling and was sitting with rod laid by upon the bank, the fly-book scarce noted in my hand. Moreover, a peculiarly fine specimen of Anopheles, (as I took it to be) was at that very moment hovering over my hand, and I was anxious to confirm my judgment as well as to enlarge my collection of mosquitoes. I had my other hand in a pocket feeling for the little phial in which I purposed to enclose Anopheles, if I could coax him to alight. Indeed, I say, I was at that very moment as happy as a man need be; or, at least, as happy as I ever expected to be

Informations

• Publié par: Pub One Info
• Date de parution: 23 octobre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9782819913788
• Langue: English

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CHAPTER I
IN WHICH I AM A CAITIFF
I was sitting at one of my favorite spots engaged inlooking through my fly-book for some lure that might, perhaps, mendmy luck in the afternoon's fishing. At least, I had within themoment been so engaged; although the truth is that the evening wasso exceptionally fine, and the spot always so extraordinarilyattractive to me – this particular angle of the stream, where thetall birches stand, being to my mind the most beautiful bit on mywhole estate – that I had forgotten all about angling and wassitting with rod laid by upon the bank, the fly-book scarce notedin my hand. Moreover, a peculiarly fine specimen of Anopheles, (asI took it to be) was at that very moment hovering over my hand, andI was anxious to confirm my judgment as well as to enlarge mycollection of mosquitoes. I had my other hand in a pocket feelingfor the little phial in which I purposed to enclose Anopheles, if Icould coax him to alight. Indeed, I say, I was at that very momentas happy as a man need be; or, at least, as happy as I everexpected to be. Imagine my surprise, therefore, at that moment tohear a voice, apparently intended for me, exclaim, "Halt!Caitiff!"
I looked up, more annoyed than displeased orstartled. It is not often one sees so fine a specimen of Anopheles;and one could have sworn that, but for my slight involuntarymovement of the hand, he must have settled; after which – credeexperto! – he would have been the same as in my phial, anddoomed to the chloroform within the next hour. Besides, no matterwho one may be or how engaged, it is not wholly seemly to beaccosted as a caitiff, when one is on one's own land, offending noman on earth, owing no debt and paying no tribute, feudal,commercial, military or personal, to any man on earth.
The situation seemed to me singular. Had the timebeen some centuries earlier, the place somewhere in the old world,such speech might have had better fitting. But the time was lessthan a year ago, the place was in America. I was on my own lands,in this one of our middle states. This was my own river; or atleast, I owned the broad acres on both sides of it for some miles.And I was a man of no slinking habit, no repulsive mien, of that Iwas assured, but a successful American of means; lately aprofessional man and now a man of leisure, and not so far pastthirty years of age. My fly-rod was the best that money can buy,and the pages of the adjacent book were handsomely stocked by thebest makers of this country and each of the three divisions ofGreat Britain; in each of which – as well as in Norway, Germany, orfor the matter of that, India, New Zealand, Alaska, Japan or otherlands – I had more than once wet a line. My garb was not of leatherjerkin, my buskins not of thonged straw, but on the contrary I wasturned out in good tweeds, well cut by my London tailor. To becalled offhand, and with no more reason than there was provocation,a "caitiff," even by a voice somewhat treble and a trifletrembling, left me every reason in the world to be surprised,annoyed and grieved. For now Anopheles had flown away; and had Inot been thus startled, I should certainly have had him. Yet more,no fish would rise in that pool the rest of that evening, for notrout in my little stream thereabout ever had seen a boat or beenfrightened by the plash of an oar since the time, three years back,when I had bought the place.
I looked up. Just at the bend, arrested now by handanchorage to the overhanging alders, lay a small boat, occupied bytwo boys, neither of more than fourteen years, the youngerseemingly not more than twelve. It was the latter who was clingingwith one hand to the drooping bushes. His companion, apparently theleader in their present enterprise, was half crouching in the bowof the boat and he, evidently, was the one who had accosted me.
A second glance gave me even more surprise, for itshowed that the boat, though not precisely long, low and rakish ofbuild, evidently was of piratical intent. At least she waspiratical in decoration. On each side of her bow there was painted– and the evening sun, shining through my larches, showed the paintstill fresh – in more or less accurate design in black, the emblemof a skull and cross-bones. Above her, supported by a short staff,perhaps cut from my own willows, flew a black flag, and whatevermay have been her stern-chaser equipment, her broadside batteries,or her deck carronades – none of which I could well make out, asher hull lay half concealed among the alders – her bow-chaser wascertainly in commission and manned for action. The pirate captain,himself, was at the lanyard; and I perceived that he now rested anextraordinarily large six-shooter in the fork of a short staff,which was fixed in the bow. Along this, with a three-cornered grayeye, he now sighted at the lower button of my waistcoat, and in afashion that gave me goose-flesh underneath the button, in spite ofall my mingled emotions. Had I not "halted," as ordered, to theextent of sitting on quietly as I was, he no doubt would havepulled the lanyard, with consequences such as I do not care tocontemplate, and mayhap to the effect that this somewhat singularstory would never have been written. "Halt, Sirrah!" began thepirate leader again, "or I will blow you out of the water!"
I sat for a moment regarding him, my chin in myhand. "No," said I at last; "I already am out of the water, myfriend. But, prithee, have a care of yonder lanyard, else,gadzooks! you may belike blow me off the bank and into thewater."
This speech of mine seemed as much to disconcert thepirate chieftain as had his me. He stood erect, shifting his LongTom, to the great ease of my waistcoat button. "Won't you heave to,and put off a small boat for a parley?" I inquired.
CHAPTER II
IN WHICH I HOLD A PARLEY
The two pirates turned to each other forconsultation, irresolute, but evidently impressed by the fact thattheir prize did not purpose to hoist sail and make a run for it."What ho! mates?" demanded the captain, in as gruff a voice as hecould compass: "Ye've heard his speech, and he has struck hisflag." "Suppose the villain plays us false," rejoined the "mates"or rather, the mate, in a voice so high or quavering that for amoment it was difficult for me to repress a smile; although thesethree years past I rarely had smiled at all.
The captain turned to one side, so that now I couldsee both him and his crew. The leader was as fine a specimen of boyas you could have asked, sturdy of bare legs, brown of face, red ofhair, ragged and tumbled of garb. His crew was active thoughslightly less robust, a fair-haired, light-skinned chap, blue-eyed,and somewhat better clad than his companion. There was somethingwinning about his face. At a glance I knew his soul. He was adreamer, an idealist, an artist, in the bud. My heart leaped out tohim instinctively in a great impulse of sympathy and understanding.Indeed, suddenly, I felt the blood tingle through my hair. I lookedupon life as I had not these three years. The imagination of Youth,the glamour of Adventure, lay here before me; things I cruelly hadmissed these last few years, it seemed to me. "How, now,shipmates?" I remarked mildly. "Wouldst doubt the faith of one whohimself hath flown the Jolly Rover? Cease your fears and comeaboard – that is to say, come ashore." "Git out, Jimmy," I heardthe captain say in a low voice, after a moment of indecision. "Keephim covered till I tie her up."
Jimmy, the fair-haired pirate, hauled in on thealders and flung a grappling iron aboard my bank, which presentlyhe ascended. As he stood free from the screening fringe of bushes,I saw that he was slender, and not very tall, one not wholly suitedby nature to his stern calling. His once white jacket now wassoiled, and one leg of his knickers was loose, from his scramble upthe bank. He was belted beyond all earl-like need; wore indeed twobelts, which supported two long hunting knives and a Malay kris,such as we now get from the Philippines; as well as a revolverlarge beyond all proportion to his own size. A second revolver oflike dimensions now trembled in his hand, and even though itsdirection toward me was no more than general, I resumed thegoose-flesh underneath my waistcoat, for no man could tell whatmight happen. In none of my works with dangerous big game have Ifelt a similar uneasiness; no, nor even in the little affair inChina where the Boxers held us up, did I ever really consider theissue more in doubt. It pleased me, however, to make no movement ofoffense or defense; and luckily the revolver was notdischarged.
When the two had topped the bank, and had approachedme – taking cover behind trees in a way which made me suspect BoyScout training, mingled with bandit literature – to a point wherewe could see each other's features plainly, I moved over to oneside of my bank, and motioned them to approach. "Come alongside,brothers," said I, pushing my fly-rod to one side; "make fast andcome aboard. And tell me, what cheer?"
They drew up to me, stern of mien, bold of bearing,dauntless of purpose. At least, so I was convinced, each wished andimagined himself to seem; and since they wished so to be seen thus,seized by some sudden whim, I resolved to see them. How I enviedthem! Theirs all the splendor of youth, of daring, of adventure, ofromance; things gone by from me, or for the most part, neverknown.
Frowning sternly, they seated themselves reluctantlyon the grassy bank beside me, and gazed out in the dignity of animagined manhood across my river, which now was lighted bravely bythe retiring sun. Had I not felt with them, longed with them, theycould never so splendidly have maintained their pretense. Butbetween us, there in the evening on my stream with only the birdsand the sun to see, it was not pretense. Upon the contrary, allcloaks were off, all masks removed, and we were face to face in thestrong light of reality. As clearly as though I always had knownthem, I saw into the